


An Angel of Approaching Thunder

by Rebecca Hb (beckyh2112)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Electricity, F/F, Masturbation, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-20
Updated: 2010-10-20
Packaged: 2017-10-12 19:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/128202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beckyh2112/pseuds/Rebecca%20Hb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Back in the Fire Nation during Season Three, a storm turns Azula's thoughts and dreams to a woman of water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Angel of Approaching Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> Seanan McGuire's [Approaching Thunder](http://cadhla.livejournal.com/1671774.html) got stuck in my head and would not let me go.

The rain poured.

Azula turned restlessly in her bed, gold eyes flickering open. The drumming of the rain had invaded her dreams, put her back in the Earth Kingdom. Back against the water-witch.

But such were the ways of dreams that the dark-skinned girl had truly been a witch, dressed in blue silk slit up to Heaven and down to Hell. Necklaces of silver coins and cowrie shells curled over her breasts, and then Azula had put her own necklace around the black swan's throat. A lasso of lightning.

The witch had smiled and her skirt had melted to thunderclouds, rumbling with thunder. But there was no lightning until Azula let it pour from her fingertips.

She sat up, cool cotton sheets slithering around her hips. The rain pounded against the shutters, the thunder rolled in the distance. Yet the darkness of her room was never illuminated by lightning.

Azula held two fingers up and spread them, lightning sparking between them. The witch had smiled so pretty in her necklaces and clouds, moonlight glinting off her teeth.

She closed her eyes and drew the sparking lightning gently over her breast. Her skin tingled, flared, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out. No one must come, no one could see. This was between her and the witch of sea and storm.

The witch had skin the color of coffee and milk, and Azula wondered if her kiss tasted like diluted bitterness. Or was her skin the color of river-mud, her kiss tasting of fish and wood?

Azula drew her lightning down her side to her hip, circled her hipbone. Her other hand reached up to skim over her breasts, and she imagined the witch would marvel at her fine paleness. She had skin like white gold, soft pink nipples the color of sunset. Her hair was dark as smoke, not like the witch's rope-brown hair.

She was sky and light, while the witch was dark, deep places, a sunken ship buried under the waves.

Thunder sounded, the wind rising, and Azula held the lightning close to her skin. Her lip was bleeding to hold back her cries, but her body sang with tension and sensation.

She rocked against her empty hand and closed her eyes to let the witch touch her.

Lightning crashed, and Azula was left in her bed, her legs shaking, her hands working to cage the witch with her for as long as possible.

But then she was gone, and Azula pulled her hands away. Steam rose from her skin, and a soft gold glow filled the room. Her fires had chased the witch away, and the storm was fading. It would be a long time before the storm-witch came dancing back to taste Azula's lightning.

She would come back. Azula held that thought to her breast like a secret.

Katara would come back.

**-End-**


End file.
